


Voices

by PhoenixTalon



Category: Last of the Mohicans (1992)
Genre: AU where they lived, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-06-09 23:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15278883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixTalon/pseuds/PhoenixTalon
Summary: Suppose Uncas did not die.  Suppose Alice hadn't leapt to her death.  How might their relationship have progressed?





	1. Chapter 1

Uncas was badly wounded.

Alice heard Cora whisper to Nathaniel, giving him a brief, terse summation of his brother’s wounds. Gunshots, knife wounds, it was by God’s grace that he even breathed at all. Cora would do all she could but they must all pray for a miracle. 

So Alice prayed, meditated, talked with God, begged God to heal him. She explained to God, that although Uncas was not a Christian Englishman, he was still created in God’s image. Hadn’t God said that he loved his entire creation? And Uncas had saved her. She remembered the fire in his eyes as he fought for her, climbing the mountain, nearly falling to his death. Had Nathaniel not reached them in time, he would have died trying to save her.

She paced outside the room distractedly. Nathaniel had found an empty hunting cabin, a place overlooking the mountains, where they could rest and breathe. She felt so useless, walking around the small common area, talking to God, but what else could she do? She fainted at the sight of blood, needles scared her, even washing used bandages made her nauseous. She was weak, she wasn’t strong like Cora. She was cowardly, where Cora was fearless, she was delicate where Cora was resilient.

And Alice hated herself for it. 

Cora exited the bedroom, wiping her hands. Alice went to her immediately, wordlessly taking her arm.

“He’s still abed,” Cora said tiredly. “Nathaniel is resting too.” 

Alice’s voice faltered. “Is—is he—is he going to—”

“His breathing is more even, I’ve stitched up his wounds,” Cora pinched the skin between her brow. “But he hasn’t woken yet. And that isn’t…a good sign.” She squeezed Alice’s hands comfortingly. 

“Could—could I—do you think I could—” She couldn’t seem to get the words out.

Cora’s expression softened. “Yes, of course,” She said gently. “Go right in. It might do him some good to hear your voice.” 

Alice fidgeted a little. “Well, we—we haven’t spoken very much—not like you and Nathaniel, it’s just—I—”

“It will do him good,” Cora said firmly. She nodded towards the bedroom door and Alice nodded back. Her hands shaking, she opened the door and stepped inside. 

At first, she only saw Nathaniel, sitting on a rocking chair, his head back against the wall. He was dozing but his eyes flicked open when he noticed her entry. Stretching a little, he stood, nodded at her politely, and exited the room, presumably to find Cora. 

For two men who weren’t related biologically, they certainly shared the same ‘strong and silent’ mannerisms. 

Uncas was lying on the single bed. His skin was a pallid gray and Alice felt the nausea rise when she saw the fresh pink staining his new bandages. Fearfully, she stepped towards him, taking a seat in the wooden chair next to his bed—the one Nathaniel had been occupying. She noticed his breathing hitched a little as she sat and she wondered if her presence had anything to do with it. 

Alice found she could think of nothing to say. No words of encouragement, no pleas that he might wake up. But wasn’t it always so? She remembered when he drew her away from the waterfall, wrapping her in his arms. She had been startled at first, strangely hypnotized by the cascading water, completely forgetting the terrible danger they were in until he’d snatched her away. She remembered how she’d stilled in his arms, a sudden stillness washing over her when she heard his heartbeat.

She had found him strange, frightening even, when they’d first met. The way he moved, lithely and quietly, like a shadow, so she never heard his approach. The intensity in his stare when she caught him watching her—and she had caught him watching her. Often. 

She had also found that she hadn’t minded him watching her. 

“Uncas,” Alice whispered. “You—you must wake soon, all right?”

He did not stir. Frustrated, she wiped her eyes briskly. How foolish she was, to think that her voice would have any effect on his condition.

Her hands trembling, she reached out to touch his bare shoulder. His chest was bare, allowing her leave to admire the firm and sinewy muscles, to shudder at every scar. Uncas was a warrior, a hunter, someone who valued and protected his family with everything he had. 

Was that—was that why he had nearly died in the act of rescuing her? Because he saw her as…family? A part of his family?

She was being ridiculous. Of course he saw her as family—weren’t Cora and Nathaniel obviously going to marry? A man would have to be blind not to see that and Nathaniel, for all intents and purposes, was Uncas’ brother, therefore Uncas saw her as something of a sister and that ingrained loyalty was second nature to him… 

But—that couldn’t be all that it was—could it? She remembered the way he’d held her…he’d said something soothing to her, in his own language, something that had calmed her racing heart. They had lain there together, listening to the sound of the waterfall, and Alice had felt her spirit still. 

He looked at her as more than Nathaniel’s family. She knew this. She knew this in the very depths of her soul. Taking a shuddery breath, she took his hand. 

“You must wake up,” Alice said fiercely. “You must. Do you hear me?”

Uncas’ breathing remained quiet and even. 

Her voice shuddering, she continued to speak. “I—I’m not like Cora. I’m useless in a crisis, blood makes me nauseous, I once—I once cried over a dead fledgling Cora found in our garden. I don’t know how to cook, how to grow things. I l-like children, but—but I get sick easily. I’m not fit for a hard life, I…I know this…”

Alice leaned towards him more closely. “But you know this. You know this too. But you still…you still want me, I think…”

She watched his face anxiously but he never stirred. 

“You have to wake up, don’t you understand?” Alice’s voice broke a little as she squeezed his hand. “You have to teach me, don’t you? You have to teach me to live in the wilds, to plant things, to not flinch at skinning an animal, how to cook the things you like, how to keep a house without a maid…you have to teach me all these things.” 

Her eyes filling, she bent her head down, resting her head against his bed, still clinging to his hand. “You have to teach me all of these things because no one else will, you see? If I’m to be yours, you have to wake up…”

Alice began to weep, hating herself for the weakness. She’d lost so much already, somehow losing the possibility she shared with Uncas was too much, she couldn’t do it, couldn’t handle it, and she silently begged God and whatever gods Uncas worshiped to let him live…

“Yes.”

One word, soft as a twig snapping. Alice’s head shot up to see Uncas’ eyes open, staring at her. 

“What—what did you say?” She asked wildly, relief flooding through her. He was alive, he’d woken up, he was going to be all right…

“Yes,” Uncas repeated, his voice a little smoky and tired. “I will teach you.”

Her face filled with heat in the sudden horror that he’d heard every bit of her outpouring. He squeezed her hand back and her face flaming, Alice backed away from him and scurried out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

“Uncas is asking for you.”

Alice brushed a lock of hair from her face nervously. Cora stared at her expectantly, waiting for a response. The sun beat down on them mercilessly, a curiously warm autumn day. Alice sat outside the cabin. She twisted the stem of a dandelion between her fingers. 

“He seems to be doing better,” Cora said after a pause. “I’m very optimistic. He’ll bear scars of course, but still…” 

Alice nodded. She tied the stem in a knot. It didn’t seem long ago that she and Cora played in their garden, creating necklaces and crowns out of flowers. English gardens…tea in fine china. It all seemed a lifetime ago. Cora sighed at her quiet. 

“What’s the matter?” She asked her gently. “Don’t you want to see him?”

“I do!” Alice’s head jerked up. “I do. It’s just…I—well…”

The corners of Cora’s mouth lifted. “What did you say to him? While you were in there alone?”

Alice reddened. She thought of her desperate pleas at Uncas side and his tender response. She was going to tear the blossom in two if she wrung it any longer. 

“Cora,” She asked tremulously. “Are you going to marry Nathaniel?”

A breeze danced through the trees and Cora watched the leaves flutter and fall to the ground. She exhaled slowly, considering her words. 

“We’ve not spoken of it yet,” She said evenly. “But…I believe we will marry, yes.” 

Alice’s stomach lurched. Her sister’s response did not surprise her, but it did not deaden the impact. 

“What…what will I do?” Alice whispered. “With Papa dead? Where will I go?”

Cora glanced at the cabin, where Uncas lay. For a while, she didn’t answer and Alice was glad of it—her point was well made in silence. 

Finally, Cora sighed. “If you wish, we can take you to New Orleans. You can board a ship there and stay with our family in Dover. They’d be glad to have you.” 

“But you wouldn’t come with me?” Alice hated the way her voice sounded. Plaintive. Weak. 

Her sister stared at the trees. The wind blew again and it struck Alice hard how…resilient Cora looked. Her sister was made for this. Cora longed to explore new continents, to adventure, to battle her fierce heart against the trials of life. Alice knew this.

“I don’t want to go back to England,” Cora said quietly. “My life there…it’s over now. My life here is just beginning. Can you understand that, Alice?”

Alice couldn’t. The idea of traveling into the west, into uncharted territory, into thousands of miles of wilderness—the thought terrified her. But Cora’s heart had always been wild, always yearning for adventure. Alice preferred comfort and familiarity.

But perhaps…perhaps that was complacency? She’d always assumed she’d marry whoever her father chose for her, live a charmed life surrounded by teacups and gay parties. It had been enough for her to read about adventures in the New World—certainly not to experience them this close. 

Alice had taken for granted that pleasing her father would make her happy. She’d always thought her family would be near her. And she always believed her father—or whatever English gentleman was chosen for her—would protect her and keep her from harm. She’d never really given any thought that life could be different. But now her father was gone and Cora would leave too…what did she want?

Her mind flashed on Uncas, his tired smile towards her, the way her stomach flipped when he squeezed her hand. She thought of her fumbling words, her ardent desire that he wake up…

“Is that what you want to do?” Cora inquired. “Go back to England?”

“I…” Alice stared at the ground miserably. “I don’t know. I don’t seem to know anything anymore.” 

Cora was quiet for a long moment. Then she embraced her sister fiercely, kissing her temple. 

“Alice, whatever you decide to do,” She said firmly. “I will help you. You will always be my sister, no matter how our paths diverge.”

No matter how our paths diverge…

Alice blinked back tears. It was perhaps wrong to think this, here in her sister’s arms, but she couldn’t help but think of Uncas. Suppose her path diverged from his? Suppose she returned to Dover and left him alone in these wilds? What would he do? His family was his father and his brother, and his brother would soon be wed. With her gone, it was probable that Uncas would find a different wife. 

Something panged against her heart. The sudden thought of Uncas looking for a different bride—staring at a woman the way he stared at her, promising to love and to hold her, in sickness and health—it filled her with a possessiveness that was unfamiliar and frightening. 

She kissed her sister back and broke away, heading towards the house. She passed Nathaniel, who glanced at her briefly, but said not a word. She opened the door to the bedroom and hesitantly went towards Uncas’ bed.

His expression brightened as she approached. He gestured towards the chair next to him and she took a seat, feeling suddenly foolish. Recklessness was not in her nature, but it surely wasn’t that impulsive to race in here…he asked to see her, after all…

“Are you feeling better?” Alice cleared her throat. 

“Much,” Uncas said quietly. “I will be walking soon.”

“Don’t overexert yourself,” Alice tucked a blonde curl behind her ear. “You’d do more harm than good. Cora said your wounds are deep and—and you’ll do no one good if you get up only to be laid low again. My father knew of many soldiers who abjectly refused to let their wounds mend and died quickly because of it.” 

He gave her a sly half-smile. “I am stronger than the men you’ve known. I will be up sooner, too.” 

She thought she detected a note of flirtation in his tone, but she wasn’t sure. Alice had never been much good at reading those sort of cues. It had almost been easy, assuming her father would pick her husband, giving that control over to his wisdom. Enduring actual interaction, leaving the choice up to her…it was a terrifying prospect. 

“Are you all right?”

The question was so preposterous that at first, Alice thought she misheard him. Was she all right? Uncas had nearly died for her sake, and he was asking if she was all right?

“Of—of course I am,” She swallowed. “You nearly died.”

He waved that away, as if it were inconsequential. The dismissive attitude he took towards his own life was simultaneously heartwarming and infuriating. 

Uncas tilted his head towards her. “Some of what transpired…was frightening. Did you have nightmares?”

Nightmares…he was referring to their night in the cave. She’d had nightmares then, lying in his arms, in the brief moments she’d slept. He had remembered those tormenting dreams…and she remembered his soft voice, soothing her terror. Had he sung to her? The thought made her cheeks warm.

“Not really,” Alice stared down at her lap. “I don’t have anything to be afraid of right now.”

“That’s true,” Uncas agreed firmly. “I will protect you.” 

She sized him up a little, unable to resist the smile. “I’m…sure you will. But for now, will you let me protect you a little?”

“How so?” Uncas readjusted himself comfortably. She liked that his voice suddenly became playful. It seemed a good omen.

“Get better,” Alice said, in a voice just shy of an order. “Rest. Let your wounds mend. Heal.”

“I intend to,” Uncas replied. “And…when I am well…”

His expression finished the sentence. Swirling heat filled Alice’s form and she was rendered mute. When he was well…what then? Cora had made her choice. But Alice hadn’t! She was no match for the wilderness, with or without Uncas’ protection. She was no hardy pioneer woman. She was simple Alice, most comfortable in a tearoom with a book. 

Uncas noticed her stiffen. “Alice.” 

She couldn’t look at him. She stared resolutely at her hands, twisted between the folds of her skirt. 

"I hold you to nothing.”

Her breath caught. She lifted her head to meet his warm, dark eyes. She was nearly brought to tears at the compassion in his gaze. 

“It’s just—well—” Alice swallowed hard. “England was so much safer, you see.”

His eyes twinkled but she felt certain he wasn’t mocking her. It occurred to her that perhaps…perhaps he did not expect Cora’s fierceness from her. Perhaps he liked her, despite her lack of familiarity with the forests and wilderness. It seemed incomprehensible. He and Nathaniel were so…so suited to this life. 

If she couldn’t be brave in Cora’s way…could she be brave in her own way?

Alice held her breath, reached forward, and took his hand. The action surprised Uncas—his eyes widened at her forwardness, but he held her palm gently, caressing fingers with his calloused thumb. He was so wonderfully alive. She’d nearly lost him, but…he was here.

“I don’t want to be without you.”

Brave in her own way. Perhaps she couldn’t milk a cow or shoot a gun. But she could say this. She could tell Uncas the truth that was locked inside her heart, the truth she was scared to even acknowledge.

“Should you wish it,” He replied softly. “You will never be without me.”

Uncas lifted her palm to his lips. He didn’t break eye contact with her once and she shivered as she felt his soft lips against her hand. 

“Alice?”

She jumped away from Uncas. Cora tentatively poked her head in.

“I’m sorry to interrupt…I just need to change his bandages,” Her eyes averted from Alice’s pink face to Uncas’ noncommittal expression. 

“Of course,” Alice said immediately and backed away. “I’ll—I’ll come back later.”

She scrambled out of the room with little grace. Cheeks aflame, she ran out of the cabin into the cool autumn air. She nearly ran headlong into Nathaniel, who was carrying a large pile of firewood. 

He took in her distress calmly. “Are you all right?”

“Y-yes,” Alice stammered. “I’m just—just feeling a little overwhelmed.”

Nathaniel set down his stack of firewood next to the front door. His expression seemed rather stony, from Alice’s viewpoint, but his words were very gentle when he spoke. 

“You and your sister’s lives have changed very quickly in a very short span of time. It’s natural to be overwhelmed.” 

A lump formed in her throat. She thought of her father—thought of her distant cousins in England. They would be thrilled to have her stay with them. She could lie and say Cora had died in the colonies. They would mourn with her. They would take care of her. She would never want for anything ever again and spend the rest of her days in comfort and safety. 

But then...she would never see Uncas’ kind eyes again. 

Nathaniel watched her. “Cora spoke to me. We can take you to New Orleans, if that is your wish. I’ve a little money to get you passage on a ship back to England.” 

She leaned back against the wall of the house. If that is your wish. She stared at the ground. 

“What if…I don’t know what I want?” Alice looked towards Nathaniel pleadingly. What if—what if it’s not just my father’s death I’m overwhelmed by? What if I’m overwhelmed by feelings I don’t understand? What if my indecision gets us killed here? What if I hold Cora back from happiness with Nathaniel?

Nathaniel gave her a rare smile and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “The truth is…no one knows what they want. But at some point, you decide if you want to go forwards or back.”

And with that, he disappeared back into the house.

She wanted to scream in frustration. She wanted to scream in grief or anger. She held her tongue—if Uncas heard her scream, she knew he would leap out of bed, injuries or no injuries…

The thought made her smile and her stomach twist. No one had ever looked at her so intently. No one had ever desired her so openly. It was usually Cora who drew men’s gaze. But Uncas never once looked at Cora. His gaze was always to her. 

What if she did it? What if she married him? What if she spent the rest of her life looking into his kind eyes? Being held in his strong arms? Raising his children? The thought warmed her unexpectedly. She imagined a cabin in the middle of the woods, not far from Nathaniel and Cora. She thought of rocking a small child with dark eyes in a cradle Uncas carved. She thought of him returning home to her every single night, that same look of intensity and desire in his gaze. 

She couldn’t get the thought out of her mind. It wouldn’t be easy. It would mean severing ties with the last vestiges of her family—save Cora, of course. There wasn’t a single person who would approve of her marrying a Mohican man. Her children would struggle, one foot in her world, another in Uncas’. 

Strangely, she felt…at peace. She was terrified of everything, but she knew in her heart that her love and Uncas’ love would protect and guide their family through every struggle they went through. They would face it together, just as they would face the untold dangers of the west. 

Alice turned and walked back into the cabin to give Uncas her answer.

****

Uncas’ prediction was correct; in two weeks he was back on his feet and assisting Nathaniel in their travel preparations. Alice insisted often that he sit down and rest. She was deathly afraid of him catching an infection; blood infections were common causes of death for soldiers. She insisted Cora check his wound every few hours or so and hovered over his bandage changes like a worried wife.

It wouldn’t be long before that was the case. Nathaniel wanted to get moving west as soon as possible, which meant marrying Cora (and marrying his brother to Alice) quickly, before the winter came. But there was some difficulty in arranging a minister to perform the nuptials. Most were fine with marrying Cora and Nathaniel, but they abjectly refused to marry Uncas and Alice. 

They hadn’t told Alice, of course. She heard them quietly speaking of the challenge while they were skinning rabbit for dinner. Cora sent Alice to collect the meat so they could get started cooking and she froze before turning the corner towards the backyard of the cabin. She’d heard her name. Nathaniel’s tone was apologetic and Uncas’ was resigned, as though he expected this difficulty. 

She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but they were talking about her…

“Perhaps we should send for our father. He could marry you both. Then we could leave before the first frost.”

“No. A white man must do it.”

Alice blinked in surprise at the firmness of Uncas’ tone. She wondered if she should interrupt.

“Why should it matter?” Nathaniel’s tone was frustrated. “They’re not going to accept the marriage at any rate. It only matters how we feel. We don’t believe in their God, why should we play their make believe?”

“It matters how Alice feels,” Uncas’ voice was resolute. “She is already sacrificing everything she knows to marry me. I will give her an English wedding. Whatever that entails. We will find a Christian minister to marry us.” 

She didn’t catch Nathaniel’s response, just the low, irritated timbre of his voice. She hurried forward to collect the meat for dinner.

Alice had hoped they would have time to speak more, but everything was a whirlwind of preparation. Uncas and Nathaniel worked slowly and surely to build a covered wagon, an impressive feat that amazed Alice. They went to the nearest town for a few days and returned with a pair of dappled geldings that utterly delighted her. She loved horses and they loved her—even Nathaniel was impressed at how the horses warmed to her. Alice and Cora named them Benedick and Mercutio, after their favorite Shakespearean characters. 

Alice was able to busy herself with the horses, a task she knew and felt confident about. But she also tried to learn from Cora, who seemed at ease with skinning animals, packing wounds, and cleaning dishes. She had no idea where Cora had learned half of this; in probability, Cora was figuring out as she went along and asking Nathaniel for tips. 

But the trouble started when Alice volunteered to bring Cora a chicken from the coop. 

A dead chicken. A chicken Alice would strangle and bring to Cora so they would have a fine chicken meal for dinner. 

Cora’s expression had been skeptical. But Alice was determined to be a proper wife to Uncas—the sort of wife he needed. She insisted on slaughtering the chicken for dinner. 

She was so confident about it, Cora ignored her better judgment and allowed Alice to go out back.

Alice approached the chickens bravely. They pecked at the ground mindlessly, unaware of their certain demise. Her heart began to hammer in her chest and she reached down and quickly scooped a chicken up.

The chicken squawked indignantly but Alice clutched it tightly to her breast. Her palm sweating, she raised her right arm and grasped the chicken’s neck. She could feel the animal’s heart beat in her arms and the bird gurgled as her grip tightened on its throat. She made the mistake of looking into the creature’s eyes and promptly burst into tears.

That was how Uncas found her, cross-legged in the dirt, sobbing her eyes out, with a slightly dazed chicken wobbling away. 

He immediately went to her and sat down with her. He wrapped his arms around her and she wept against his chest. 

“I-I-I’m s-s-s-orry,” She hiccuped. “I j-just—j-just couldn’t.”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Uncas whispered in her ear. “It’s all right. It’s all right.”

“How am I ever going to do this?”

“You won’t,” He said fiercely. “You won’t. You won’t do any of this.” 

He kissed her forehead and Alice blushed at the forward gesture. She tilted her head up towards his penetrating dark stare and realized he meant it. If she wished it, she would never kill a chicken, she would never skin an animal, she would never so much as boil a pot of water. He would do everything for her without a word of complaint. 

This realization struck Alice hard. In that moment, she felt a stirring in her heart, a warmth she didn’t recognize—that he would do so much for her! And she realized that all she wanted was to give that warmth back to him, to let him know she would do anything for him. 

She wiped her eyes. A firm sort of resolution fell over her and she stood. She dusted the dirt off her dress and marched over to the chicken. She snatched it by its feet, held it upside down, and with her right hand, broke its neck before she had time to think about it. 

Uncas would do anything for her. But she would do anything for him. And she would be a good wife to him!

He watched her and she glowed under the pride in his gaze. She self-consciously set the dead chicken on the stump and went to him.

“I’m sorry for my—my hysterics…” She murmured, her head down. “I guess I’m not…I am trying…” 

“I know you are.”

He tilted her head upwards and she froze when he kissed her. 

Alice had never been kissed before. She’d had a few gentlemen kiss her palm, one daring lad in England even managed to peck her cheek, but most were too afraid of her intimidating father to even entertain the thought. Uncas’ lips were warm and inviting against hers as his calloused palm cupped her cheek. He broke away from her for half a moment to gauge her reaction. 

She gulped a little and he chuckled, low and throaty. A little embarrassed at her shyness, she resolved to try again—he was her fiancé for goodness’ sakes! She could not bring herself to kiss his mouth exactly, so she went on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his cheek.

He accepted the kiss with a small smile. Perhaps her inexperience was endearing. She wanted to show him…show him more. She raised herself on her toes again, a hairbreadth away from his lips.

Uncas kissed her again, this time more deeply. Warmth flooded her senses and her hands tentatively came around his neck. She felt his tongue gently tease her lips; she opened them in surprised anticipation.

Everything became a swirl of heat. Alice felt out completely out of her depth as his tongue met hers in a dynamic dance she did not fully understand. Lightning filled her veins and she pulled him nearer to her, to absorb more of this addicting heat. In her fog, she vaguely realized what this was…lust. That powerful sin the Bible warned women against. 

She wanted more of it.

Uncas moved against her and she felt him gently push her against the wall of the cabin. His hot mouth left hers to taste the skin of her neck and gently nip at her collarbone. Sparks coursed through her core and she gasped when she felt him hard against her thigh. 

Alice wanted to see his gaze. Her trembling palms cupped his cheeks and he stared at her, smoke in his gaze. Desire. Desire for her. 

The knowledge of this made her feel terribly powerful. Was this why the ministers warned so against lust? Because they knew what power it gave women? 

She pulled him towards her for another sizzling kiss and he obliged her. She moaned a little against him and she felt his hand reach for her thigh, moving under her skirts, touching bare skin…she wanted him to touch her more. Wildly, it occurred to her that she wanted him to ravish her right there in the open, before the trees, up against the cabin…

“Alice?”

In an embarrassing scramble, Alice jerked away from Uncas at the sound of her sister’s voice. Cora came around the side of the house and blinked at her disheveled her sister, the dead chicken on the ground, and Uncas, who was panting slightly. 

“Er…do excuse me,” Cora said carefully. She bent down to take the strangled chicken and quickly retreated. 

Alice stepped away from Uncas, her cheeks flaming. She smoothed the rumples in her skirt and kept her eyes to the ground. “Er…I should…help her.”

He nodded but there was heat in his gaze. His expression seemed to say, until later.

She hurried away, her heart pounding. 

Until later…until…their wedding night…


End file.
